If Kate Moss, a woman of substance in more ways than one, had been a little more discriminating about what she stuffed up her nose, she would have the class, glamour and iconic status of Audrey Hepburn.
She could have any rich, sophisticated, sexy, suave, man on the planet. Instead she can't seem to shake the odious Pete Doherty.
Somehow she sees him as a wild rocker. Actually, he looks like a dishevelled fourth year paper boy.
Her contracts have survived her drug abuse, but the longer she associates with him, the more she looks like a chav princess with no taste rather than a fashion queen.
